Sonya Elliott

Back on the Court

AUTHOR & BASKETBALL FANATIC

Hidden Treasures

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There was a part of me that wanted to throw away the tall stacks of old homework papers that were piled in the corner of my office. More than a years worth of two kids schoolwork adds up to a lot of paper cuts and huge pile of recycle. I know I should do this process once a week, or once a month, but I have given into the fact that it happens once every year or two for me. But in the end, there are always one or two nuggets of gold that make it worth it. In between the numbers & graphs, definitions and essays, I find some poetry & prose that give me insight into my growing and ever-changing kids, and occasionally a little insight on life.

Don’t forget to sift & search for life’s hidden treasures.

 

…I knew about this poem, but I came across it and others, by my daughter and my son, that helped me know them just a little bit better…

 

          FREEDOM OF SPEECH

          BY CHARLI ELLIOTT

 

          I want to always rise to the                                                                                                

          Challenge. I want to never sit alone.

          I want to learn to talk and be heard.

 

          I want to watch as the grass grows

          Old and dies. Month after month. Year after year.

 

          I want to see. If the moon can rise

          Every night, I want the taste

          Of freedom on the tip of my tongue

 

          I want to touch you, dance with you on

          A cloud made of light. I want to lose myself

 

          In the labyrinth and rolling waves

          Of your eyes. I want to free myself

          Of hate. I want to be free from the shackles of freedom.

 

          I want to be free, and free of freedom,

          With its cold irons clasped on your wrists. Its

 

          Frenzied thoughts, its open plains, and definition

          Tied neatly with a bow. I want to be free of

          Words without meaning and listlessness. My anger,

 

          My loss and apologies, my doubt.

          If the rain can cleanse the earth

 

          I want a fresh soul. I want the stones wisdom

          And the earth’s flexibility. I want the lights

          Ubiquity, but not its invisible touch

 

          I want the reliance of the sun, but not its fury.

          I want the strength of the universe. I want to search

 

          The rolling hills of elsewhere and find

          You there. I want the tips of your fingers

 

          In the small of my back. I want to be the tree

          But not the leaves. I do not want to be the grass

          I do not want to be the dew covered spider web,

 

          Or the spider. When I leave this body

          I want to be sheer power. I want to have a voice.

 

 

 

                                        

Books, basketball & blessings

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Books & basketball. For me there isn’t a better combination, at least I wouldn’t have thought so until I set out on a small book tour this summer. I read excerpts from my book, Back on the Court, at Washington locations from Leavenworth (A Book for All Seasons & the Library) across the state to Aunties Bookstore in Spokane where after my reading I watched a lot of basketball (It was Hoopfest weekend). I met some amazing people, including two people that helped save my life twenty years ago. Books, basketball & blessings. One definition of blessing is: the act of a person who bestows good. Because of the good of these people, and many others, I am here today and I can enjoy my books and basketball, and count my blessings.

Thank you Bruce and Jacquie.

 

 

Take a moment

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“What is something you’ve done that you are proud of? How did it make you feel?” This was a question posed to young campers and high school coaches at a recent basketball camp where I incorporated journal writing & goal setting. Not a bad thought to ponder at any age…

Try something new

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My friend and I escaped for the weekend to write. We woke, ate and drove to the sun to set pen to paper. Our writing warm up, “sea air & bird poop”, became…a poem?

 

The dock sways. I close my eyes. The salty air surrounds my body. Slightly cool it breaks the heat of the morning sun.

 Coos and Cackles. Hums from unseen pigeons. Remnants of their presence on the dock by my feet. Like paint across rusty nails and deeply grooved wood.

 Water sparkling all around. No camera in hand, I take a snapshot in my mind. Heaven

 

Sometimes it’s fun to try something new…

Inspiration

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Recently, my daughter and I went to the Write on the River Writer’s Conference in Wenatchee. Charli, just turned 15-years-old and it was part of her birthday present. We loaded our 89′ Volkswagen Vanagon and headed to Wenatchee. Charli spinned tunes on Pandora and we sang along to the songs we knew and chatted through those we didn’t. The two and a half hour trip flew by.

The conference was smaller than I expected. Ideal. Jonathan Evinson, the Key Note Speaker, was a riot. His F-bombs didn’t faze me a bit, even with Charli by my side (I know she’s heard worse). Jonathan told stories of torching rejection letters and burying novels. He wandered and paced the stage, divulging his wisdom. I breathed it in. I smiled and laughed and gave Charli hug. I felt a burning in my soul to put pen to paper.

The Time is Now

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Basketball season has been over for a while, so I really have no excuse for falling behind on my writing. But that is life, isn’t it? An ongoing battle to follow ones dreams, even when it’s down a bumpy road.

And the journey toward a worthwhile goal usually is bumpy. I mean, if it were easy to get everything we wanted, exactly when we wanted it, life might be kind of boring. Right? At least I tell myself that. And then I try not to get to angry at myself for putting my writing on the back burner for so long, and then I grab a pen.

It’s time to grab your pen, your gym bag, your resume…your strength.

The time is now.

Believe in Your Dreams

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Never give up. I’ve used this philosophy on the court and in life for a lot of years. When I told my husband I was going to write a book, he said, “What do you mean, you don’t write?” He was right, but I knew after Mark died, after I struggled to go on living and to find happiness again, after that journey, I knew I would share my experience in a book. It wasn’t easy. I spent nearly ten years writing my memoir, taking writing classes, going to workshops and putting pen to paper, and then came the hard part, getting published.

Fifteen years into this writing journey, my kids have moved through preschool, elementary school, middle school and as of last week one is now in high school. My hair has grayed (though you can’t usually tell because it’s highlighted blonde) and my Bampa, my grandpa and a huge inspiration to my writing life, has passed on. Much time has gone by, but I never gave up, and on October 16th my memoir Back on the Court will be released.

Do you have a dream that seems beyond your reach? A goal too lofty? Nonsense, if there is something you strive to achieve, believe in your heart that you will do it, and never give up!

Breathe

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Sometimes I have to stop for a moment and breathe. I mean really breathe. Allow the tension in my body to melt away. Recently I have had a lot of these times.

Fortunately, every Thursday I write with my friend Jenny. We hold one another accountable to our writing goals and use the time to put words on paper. Instead of talking about our week, we write a letter to one another as our writing warm up. Yesterday, in my letter I thanked her for our friendship and then dove into my frenzied week. Scribbling at a pace that was as fast as my life, up until that very moment. Field trips, games, photo shoots, business meetings, open gyms and of course the never ending, and dreaded, cleaning. Sentence by sentence, I detailed the chaos and at the end of each paragraph I wrote BREATHE. An explanation to Jenny, and a reminder to myself, of what I should be doing. I wrote. Took a breath. Wrote. Took a breath. And with each breath felt more calm and thought to myself, “…this should be a blog.”

We read our letters out loud to one another. Jenny went first. I smiled as she shared her letter that was written to me. She paused and I watched her shoulders rise and fall. “Breathe,” she read aloud. Our minds were in tune. (this was not the first time.) Jenny had started a blog series BREATH.

There is much to be said about the benefit of a good deep breath. Take a moment now, fill your lungs, hold the air inside your body for a brief moment and then, let it go…breathe…

*For more on BREATH go to www.heartwriter.com

Balancing Chaos

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Last night I received the first round of edits from my editor in LA. My book BACK ON THE COURT, is to be published this fall by Tigress Pubishing and the process is underway. Am I scared? Hell yes! Excited and scared. This book writing thing has been a long process, with life mixed in. But isn’t that what life is all about? Figuring out how to blend it all. How to sit down and read 250 pages of edit work when you’ve got in-laws in town, a birthday to prepare for, tax information to search for (had to file for and extension this year), a team fundraiser to organize, kids baseball & softball games to attend and well, basically just…a life to live.

You all know of the chaos of which I’m speaking. Does finding balance mean that life is slow and void of chaos? Maybe not, though it would be nice at times. Maybe it’s understanding that to live a balanced life you can have a lot going on, it’s just figuring out how to do it in a way in which you are happy. For some that means scaling back for others it’s having a new mind set.

Perhaps tonight I will have to skip my basketball game and hunker down with a cup of tea and my edits. Or maybe go to my game and skip watching The Mentalist with my husband, our Thursday night “date night”. Or try to do it all. Which ever I decide, what is important is that I feel good about the descision. Sorry Honey, I’ll catch you next Thursday. 🙂
Check out www.heartwriter.wordpress.com for more thoughts on balance

Forgotten?

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It’s not that I’ve forgotten to write my blog, it’s just I’m afraid of it sometimes. Yes, you heard it, AFRAID. And honestly there’s not much I’m afraid of, but for some reason I’m afraid that I won’t get it right. The punctuation and grammar for one, which is not my forte’, but will I reach you, the audience. Will I get across the feelings and thoughts I have inside? Will you care?

I guess to blog, I’ll have to let that part of me that’s a perfectionist go, or is that the perfectionist side of me? That’s what I’m talking about! What is correct grammatically, which is grammatically correct, or does it matter? I guess what does matter, is to try, to put the effort in. For all of us, whether at school, on the basketball court, at work, in life, it’s putting in the effort, taking a chance.
So blog, I will, about life, love and basketball. And you, my readers, may love or…(dare I say the opposing opinion) my ramblings but if they make you ponder, laugh or cry, then letting go of the fear and sharing is worth it, imperfections and all.

FINDING YOUR GAME FACE: The Importance of Goal Setting in Basketball and in Life by Sonya G. Elliott

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Finding my game face, that determined mindset that helps me accomplish a goal, wasn’t easy after my fiancé was killed and I was critically injured in an accident nineteen years ago. I had to rely on the “never give up” attitude and work ethic that I had learned from my days on the basketball court to help me move forward with my life and begin to heal. Though the future was something I didn’t want to think about at the time, I set some goals, put on my game face, complete with narrowed eyes and clenched jaw, and battled one day at a time to find the life I have today as a coach, a wife, a mother and a lover of the game.

Putting my dreams on paper has always helped me. The summer before I started high school I set the goal to take 5000 shots so I could improve my game and get ready for high school basketball. I achieved my goal, my summer camp’s version of the Peace.Love.Basektball Summer Shooting Challenge and made the varsity basketball team my first year of high school. The next year I became a starter. My senior year, I achieved my ultimate goal, a full-ride athletic scholarship to play basketball. My goals were being realized, but there were many goals along the way that I didn’t achieve. I didn’t make my goal of First Team All-Greater Spokane League. It was painful to watch that one die, along with others, but they were great lessons. I learned that even when I worked hard, I didn’t always get what I wanted. However, I learned to regroup, establish new goals, put on my game face, and work toward my future.

After my accident, it was that “never give up” attitude, instilled in me from my years on the court, that kept me moving forward. I set the goal to walk and went from wheelchair to quad cane, quad cane to cane, and cane to walking. Then I set the goal to play basketball again and that is when my healing truly began. I worked through my grief, strengthened my battered body and found that life was still worth living.

It takes hard work and determination to achieve a goal, but first you must establish a goal that you believe in and then put it in writing. According to a study by Dr. Gail Matthews of Dominican University, people who write down their goals, share their goals with a friend, and send weekly updates to that friend are on average 33% more successful in accomplishing their stated goals than those who merely formulated their goals.

Take the time to make note of your dreams. You can write your goals in a soft leather journal with a fancy tie, in a word document titled “My Awesome Future”, or on the back of an old envelope, it matters not, just make it official and write it down. It’s helpful to write down when you want to achieve the goal, why you want to achieve it, action steps to reach it, possible obstacles that may arrive when working toward it and how you will overcome these obstacles, but don’t let all that scare you. If you need to, make it simple. Grab a pen, write one goal and get to work.

Put on your game face and start setting goals and you will create the future of your dreams.


The following is an excerpt from Sonya Elliott’s memoir Back on the Court: A Young Woman’s Triumphant Return to Life, Love and Basketball

“I need a new goal in my life. If I can’t have Mark, I want back the one other important part of my life. I want to play basketball again…I step on to the basketball court to begin my comeback. Holding the ball near my face, I drink in the familiar smell of leather and then drop the ball to the floor and begin to dribble. I need to dribble the basketball. I need to know that at least one small thing in my life hasn’t changed. Dribbling back and forth, back and forth, the rhythm of the ball works its magic on my body and soul. My mind focuses and I forget all that has gone wrong, if only for a moment.”

Peace.Love.Basketball Summer Shooting Challenge

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I now have a reason to blog. Or should I say a motivation to blog. I have a lot of good reasons. I designed a line of basketball t-shirts that are for sale on my website peacelovebasketball.com. The team I’m playing on, AWU (All Washed Up) won the Sheryl Swoopes Tournament and our league. I started writing my next book. I could go on. But I’m motivated to blog again because I’m taking the Peace.Love.Basketball Summer Shooting Challenge.

I was talking with a friend about the 5000 shot club I was a part of the summer before I went to high school and how much it helped my shooting when a light bulb went off. I could start a 5000 shot club on my website. The PLB Summer Shooting Challenge was born and will be a part of my website next week. I hope it will encourage young ball players to get out, have some fun on their own, and shoot the ball. Kids (or adults) can download a free calender and track their shooting this summer. If they register ($10) they will receive a Peace.Love.Basketball Summer Shooting Challenge T-shirt and PLB Sticker in August. 
How could I present a challenge and not take it myself. I will update my blog on my progress. And please let me know how the challenge is going for you, or your kids, if you choose to join me. Get out there and have fun playing ball! I think I’m going to hit the court today and get started. Enjoy the summer!
photos: Peace.Love.Basketball Scoop Neck T-shirt and Sonya Elliott in her “stylish” 5000 shot club T-shirt, 1981

Basketball helped rekindle her life

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Spokesman Review “THEN and NOW” article


BASKETBALL HELPED REKINDLE HER LIFE 
by 
Dave Trimmer 
Sonya Elliott was flying home from a modeling assignment in Hawaii last month, husband and two children waiting for her at home in Seattle. 
Staring into the darkness from her window seat, many thoughts crossed her mind. 
“I remember thinking how thankful I am, from where I cam from,” she said choking up at the thought.
She wasn’t reflecting on her All-Greater Spokane League basketball career at University, her four seasons at Eastern Washington University, highlighted by an appearance in the 1987 NCAA tournament her junior season, or her modeling career.
She only thought back to when her second life started, when she woke up in the hospital after a train hit the car in which she was riding and killed her fiance’ just days before their wedding.
It was October 20, 1991.
“Like anybody that’s going through the loss of somebody they love, when you’re in it you don’t see that it can get better,” she said. “To me, it’s unbelievable where I’m at now.”
Through a love a basketball she learned to live life, and love again.
to read the entire article follow the link below:

Remember the Gifts

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Recently I had the most incredible experience. I was allowed to share my story of recovery with a grief support group at a neighborhood middle school. I felt very privileged. I can’t imagine dealing with death while going through middle school. Those years are such a time of change and growth.

Before meeting with the students I spoke with Ann White at The Healing Center in hopes that I might better understand what part of my experience would best support them in dealing with their grief. Surrounded by the Healing Center’s warmth, I melted into the soft chair next to Ann and found myself holding back tears as I told her about my fiance Mark who was killed in an accident 17 years ago. A lot of years have passed since Mark’s death and I don’t cry about it much anymore, so I felt silly. Ann reached across and touched my arm. “It’s okay to cry. And it will be okay for the kids to see that even after many years have gone by, you have a special place in your heart for Mark.”
 
Thank you. Even an old lady like me felt relieved to hear it out loud. 
Ann related the grief of a loved one to a scar. She said the pain in your heart, just like a scar, can heal and be stronger than before, but it can also be very sore to the touch. 
I felt the pain melt away.
I talked to the middle schoolers about my life. How lucky I feel to be in this world sharing my life with my husband and kids. That I am a writer and I have just finished writing a book. That I am a fashion model and an athlete. That I had played basketball in college, and still play and coach basketball. I shared with them that there was a time in my life when I would not have thought any of it possible.
I explained that my finane Mark and I had been hit by a train. He had been killed and I wished I had been too. I told them about a friend, Solvieg, who during my recovery, said that grief hurt but over time I would feel better. “I’m not sure I believed her at the time,” I told the students, “but I did agree with the fact that I was hurting.” And now I see that Solvieg was right. After my accident, after losing Mark, ever so slowly I began to feel better. 
But along with time, there were several things that helped me in my journey of recovery, and when I talked with the students I explained that everyone’s experience is different but I hoped they could draw something useful from my experience. First of all, I cried a lot. I had great family support and I was allowed to cry and cry and yes…cry. I did not have to go to school or work and act like everything was okay. Finding the time to cry is not always an easy task but for me, it was an important part of grieving. 
I took life one-step-at-a-time. I was able to do that during the worst times thanks to my history as an athlete. How many times had I gone to basketball practice and pushed myself to work hard even when I was injured or simply sick and tire of practicing three hours a day. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, I put my “never give up attitude” from basketball to good use on my journey of recovery.
A month after Mark was killed, I began writing in a journal. Writing may not be for everyone, but it was helpful for me to put my anger and pain on paper. How could this have happened? Why do I have to live without Mark? How can I go on? Every time, the words hit the page they allowed me to move forward in my recovery. To find a way to move ahead with my life. I believe that the journal doesn’t have to be fancy, sometimes it’s better if it’s not, that way you’re not afraid to write in it, dirty it’s beautiful pages.
Last, I found something I was passionate about to focus on…playing basketball. Trying to play basketball again, gave me something to live for. It helped me to move toward a life filled with happiness and love. Find your passion. Find a reason to live.
 
While meeting Ann at the Healing Center, she had asked me a question that penetrated my soul. “What gifts did Mark give you?” I had never thought of it like that before. At home I let the question swim around in my mind. I knew Mark was a part of me now and forever, I had written about him and how he changed my life, but I had never thought of it in that way. “What gifts did Mark give me?” I remembered how when we visited Marks grandparent’s he would chop wood, cut back branches that drooped across their drive, and look for other odd jobs to help around their house. Or what about how he had saved money to get a limosine for each of his three sisters for their 21st birthdays. (Not one, but three sisters.) Mark was thoughtful. that was one gift I have tried to implement into my life. I don’t always succeed but because of him I increase my effort. It has been nice to begin to identify and recognize many of the gifts that Mark has given me.
Just last week, I lost my grandfather “Bampa“. And I found it very comforting to look at the gifts he has given me. From something as simple as tickling my feet when I was a little kid (Oh how I loved that simple loving touch) to the way he lived and share his life.
Looking around the room during the middle school support group meeting, I realized that there were many gifts given to us in our lifetime and those given to us by the ones we have loved and lost have a special meaning.
While in the depth of grief I wouldn’t have seen it, but now I recognize the gifts that Mark and my grandfather have given me. And just as important I remind myself of the gifts that are given to me every day as I live my life. The mom that rescued my kids from piano when I worked late, the “walrus dancing” email sent by my middle school friend Kirsten that brought a chuckle during tax time, the sticky cookies-n-cream ice cream mustache kiss from my son. All of them are gifts. Sometimes when life gets hurried I forget about how precious life is, but then I think about Mark. I think about Bampa. I think about what is really important in life, my family and friends, and I feel very lucky indeed.
…remember the gifts.

Natalie Goldberg…GO!

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Her voice was remarkably comforting as she commanded every writer in the auditorium to “Go.” She, of course, didn’t mean for us to leave because we were getting on her nerves, she meant WRITE. Just WRITE.

Fellow writers, readers, artists, and adoring fans were all ready to absorb her every word in hopes that it would lead them down their writing path. Her magic helping to make “it” happen. “It” being the book, the essay, the writing. My own writing experience hasn’t always been easy. Life seems to get in the way, but Natalie Goldberg has been there to help in my journey. I remember when I first discovered her powerful yet soothing voice, listening to her books on tape as I built my deck. Her voice spoke to me and told me that as writers we often look outside for help to keep us moving forward with our work, but the magic we are looking for is within. Write is Goldberg’s answer. Go
It sounds crazy, but I’m a believer. Writing my memoir Lasting Impact seemed overwhelming. Too many words. Too many ideas to get my mind around. Go Sonya. Go. I drew inspiration and strength from Ms. Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones. First I wrote a paragraph, then a page, and then another. The pages grew and combined with one another, they began to form a story. Go Sonya. Go. I believed that if I continued on my path of writing, perhaps I could finish my memoir. It was slow, but like a puzzle the pieces came together. And when I thought I was finished, there was more. Revise. Edit. Go Sonya. Go. More than ten years have passed. My memoir is finished.
Recently, while working on an article I was ready to give up. Go Sonya. Go. As the words hit the page an entirely different, perhaps better idea ran through me and onto the paper. I looked at my writing the next day, it needed a lot of work, but the idea, a good idea, was there for me to work with…the bones. Just do it, write. This is why the auditorium at the Seattle Public Library was packed. Ms Goldberg has the answer.
Go. Write. There will be surprises, maybe disappointments, but you will have written, and that, in itself is a good thing. I’m getting better at the “Go,” it’s the editing that holds me back. Not the “move around the words and ideas” stage, but the “get the commas and the quotes in the right place” stage. Copy editing. That is when fear takes hold of me. It is bad enough when my inner critique berates, “Why would you write a book, an article, a blog? Who would want to read it?” But she adds with her evil smile, “What if it’s not grammatically perfect?”.
JUST GO SONYA…GO.

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